


Written and Absolutely Smitten

by retrouvailles_kairos



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Victor is actually a cafe owner, Alternate Universe - Yuuri is a writer, I am so whipped with this anime, M/M, VictUuri, viktuuri, yuri!!! on ice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrouvailles_kairos/pseuds/retrouvailles_kairos
Summary: In a world where soulmates exist, and Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov aren't skaters, but are an author and a painter respectively.Some people can also remember their past lives, too! How great is that?(Can't write summaries. Sorry)





	1. Chapter 1.0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this prompt online. Forgive me for I have forgotten where I got it, but it basically says:  
> "You become a writer and your series of novels become extremely popular, but what they don’t know is that you’re retelling your previous life where certain circumstances made it so you and your soulmate did not end up together but your soulmate promises to be with you the next lifetime. At a book signing, you open the book cover of a fan’s copy to see something written on the front page: “I’m sorry I took so long.” "
> 
> I changed it a bit; I'm just telling you I got my inspiration from that prompt ^^

“Katsuki-kun, you have five more minutes before you have to get to the front stage.”

Yuuri sighed, nodding towards the stage director, before standing up from the chair he just sat on. He straightened his tie a bit and dusted off the suit jacket he was wearing, adjusting it to make sure it looked neat and presentable.

He looked at the table in front of him, a copy of his book “A Thousand Lives” on top of it. He balled his fists and breathed out before shaking his head and leaving the room.

“Katsuki-kun, you’re up.” He nodded, waiting for the host of the show to say his name and call him up the stage. While waiting, he checked his phone quickly and saw various messages from various people.

“May I present to you, the author of the worldwide best-selling book “A Thousand Lives”, Katsuki Yuuri!”

 _That’s my cue._ He hid his phone, walking towards the hosts of the show. His usual shy smile was plastered on his face, shaking the hands and kissing the cheeks of the hosts as if they were that close.

“My my, welcome to the show, Mr. Katsuki! It’s a pleasure for you to be here right now,” the hostess, Mila Babicheva, had greeted as he waved to the crowd.

“It is also my pleasure to be here. Thank you for inviting me,” He said, still smiling.

“Your book is absolutely amazing, Mr. Katsuki. I have read this over and over again,” the host, Georgi Popovich, complimented. Yuuri thanked him for his words and thus the questions began.

There were various questions thrown at him by the hosts, but Yuuri had been able to stay calm and composed throughout them. To say it was making him nervous was a bit of an understatement. It was _nervewracking_ ; he had to watch out with his words, make sure he says things correctly and concrete and had to give out a few details only. He was so conscious of what he was saying, he felt like something will go wrong any minute. _Hopefully not_ ¸ he thought.

“Many people have felt the absolute emotions and feelings put out and expressed in each and every word you wrote.” Georgi started, _oh no_. “Who could be the person that inspired you to write this book?”

A collective cheer and yell were heard from the audience; obviously, the fans wanted to know who was behind the inspiring and well-thought out emotions of this book. Someone must’ve been his inspiration, right?

“It’d be impossible to write feelings in this manner; it’s so on point and wholesome that it felt like someone must’ve made you felt like this,” Mila added, to which the audience-once again- cheered on.

Yuuri was an absolute blushing mess, but he reminded himself that this was live worldwide and everybody could see him. He cleared his throat and laughed, “Nobody really.”

It was an absolute lie. Someone was, _is_ ¸ behind all the emotions Yuuri had shown in the book. The only problem was that he didn’t know where and who that person really is right now.

Crazy, right?

* * *

 

“That was such a nice interview, Yuuri!” His best friend, Phichit Chulanont, said as soon as he answered the call.

His segment was over just a few minutes ago and he was, without a doubt, thankful that it ended already. His anxiety was starting to creep up in his words as the hosts asked more questions, but he really did try to mask it off by his smiles.

“Thanks, Phichit.” He told him while trying to fix his bag. It seemed that Phichit had stories to tell and so he tilted his head in order to lock his phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Okay, so get this…” Phichit started, blabbering about Instagram, ice skating, and a man named Christophe Giacometti. Yuuri smiled at the randomness of his best friend, trying to put in the book in his bag, but was unable to do so and his bag had fallen to the floor.

“Damn it,” he cursed as he kneeled down to get his bag. Phichit paused his ramblings to ask if Yuuri was okay or If something happened.

“Yeah, it’s just…” He trailed off from what he was supposed to say as soon as his eyes landed on a paper. His heart clenched, the sight of the white parchment paper giving him pain more than what he thought he’d feel.

“Yuuri? Are you okay?” Phichit’s worried voice over the line had somehow managed to pull him back to reality and thank God it did. He shook his head, picking up the other valuables he had that fell out of his bag.

“Yeah, I’m-I’m good.” He assured, grabbing the paper and crumpling it. He didn’t throw it, but rather kept it in his bag for later. Phichit didn’t argue anymore, he knew it’d be better that way and continued on rambling about a Korean ice skater.

* * *

 

Yuuri opened the door to his apartment, the cozy warmth enveloping him as soon as he did. _Tadaima_ , he thought before entering. Everything seemed to be in place and where it was supposed to be, so cleaning wasn’t one of the things Yuuri had to worry about.

He slumped on the couch, his bag beside him. He managed to change his outfit in the studio, with him now wearing his usual brown coat and blue scarf. He wasn’t a fan of dressing up in a fancy manner, but when he does have to wear, he has the utmost respect to do so.

He took out his book from his bag, checking its cover, and smiling, before putting it on top of the coffee table. He reached for anything he could get when he took hold of something…crumpled.

He took it out, the crumpled paper in his hands. He uncrumpled it, looking at what was written and drawn on it. Somehow, they felt taunting to him, like they were throwing jabs and teases. He didn’t like it, not one bit.

What was drawn on the paper was the figure of the person whom he used to think was a once-in-a-lifetime grab, but it seemed that life wasn’t always like that.

Gray hair that was long and flowy; beautiful blue eyes that got Yuuri captivated; a slim but well-toned body that had him crazy. This person was someone he thought he’d finally have. Well, that was his first thought couple of lives ago.

Katsuki Yuuri has been reincarnated a lot of times now, with one person always as his love interest, but none of those lives managed to make it a happy ending for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Q: What should Victor be? A model? A figure-skater? ^^)
> 
> Hello, the first chapter of this one was posted a day before my exams but was written quite a long ago. Because of that, I am not a hundred percent sure when I could update this or if I could. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed it. 
> 
> Also, I'm not entirely sure of what I should do or what I should put in the story, so bear with me and my inconsistency towards this story. This kind of attitude has been my problem as a writer (other than lack of confidence), so please do suggest things and leave comments or kudos (I'm new to the AO3 system, sorry). I don't know if they have a private messaging thing going on here, but if they do, please don't be shy to message me and talk more about the story! I will try to improve my English (it isn't my first language) and will try to finalize my plot for this. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2.0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back.
> 
> the chapter is actually two times longer than the first chapter, but it's all word-vomit.  
> hope you like it!

All of the people will reincarnate, but only a few are blessed to remember their memories from their past lives. That was the case of Katsuki Yuuri; he had reincarnated a few times already, blessed to remember all of those. Although, in this fifth life, he wasn't sure anymore if this was truly a blessing or a curse. He does remember, but he could also remember the endings of his past lives; endings without his soulmate. What sucked more was that even if he remembered his soulmate, even if he could remember his physical features, it hit to him that he had never fully seen the face of the person; just the piercing blue eyes that melted him. It sucked, it truly sucked; relationships aren't his first priority in life, but he was still human. He still wanted to feel a happy ending with the someone who was destined for him. It felt like the universe was laughing at him like he wasn't supposed to be happy together with his supposed-to-be soulmate, and as much as he willed himself to not care, he just couldn't stop caring.

His parents were soulmates; his mom had met his dad in their previous life (not lives, Yuuri grunted) and they never separated ever since. They were practically joined at the hips. Even after dying, they had promised to look for each other in their next life and they had. Yuuri didn't know how they did it and how they found each other again (his parents only told him they felt it which, at the age of 6, he couldn't concretely decipher what they meant and just rolled with it), but he was definitely happy for them. If they hadn't found each other, he wouldn't be here, wouldn't be the Katsuki Yuuri he is right now; the famous author of a best-selling book telling the world the unfortunate stories of his past lives.

Speaking of parents, he decided to call them and ask how they were. He reached out for his phone, pressed the speed dial for his okaa-san and brought the device near his right ear. After a few rings, his mom answered with a sweet "Ohayou, Yuuri." and it was the closest thing he could possibly feel right now to home, to where he should be.

"Hi, mom. How are you? How's the place?" He asked, bringing his knees close to his chest. "How's Vicchan?"

Vicchan is his dog; a cute and small chocolate-red colored toy poodle he had owned since he was young. The name was, to him, a spur of the moment. He had felt like it was something that should have been done and something related to his past life. He had wanted a dog ever since, something to take care of and something to give and pour his love on. The day his parents gave him Vicchan, he cried tears of happiness and wouldn't stop playing with him (to the point where they hadn't slept all night). He took care of Vicchan like he was the most precious thing in this entire world (because he is) and that separating from him made him worried sick for what might happen to the dog if he wasn't there.

"We're fine, Yuuri, although Vicchan misses you already," his mom answered, Yuuri's heart warming and eyes welling up at the thought of Vicchan staying at the front door, waiting for him to go home. He had grown attached to the dog and his affection for him was not hidden at all. "The business is as usual, but overall, everything's great but we miss you. When will you come back?"

"In two days, mom." He responded to her with a smile on his face even if he knew he wouldn't be seen by her. Currently, he was in St. Petersburg, Russia for book interviews and special TV appearances, as it seemed that the country was one of the biggest number of readers of his book. He had done his first special appearance hours ago but will come back tomorrow for a proper appearance and will be joining the hosts for the entire hour the show who had requested him would roll. He was nervous about it; he has done a lot of guesting and shows and interviews, but he didn't exactly know what to do when it comes to these things. He acted like he knew, but honestly, he would get so lost and he felt like the thread holding him up would snap any second in the show.

"I can't wait to see you again, Yuuri! I'll prepare you a lot of katsudon!" His mom gushed, excited vibes radiating through the phone. Yuuri blushed and felt loved; he had always doubted himself, had doubted the people around him, but it was moments like these when he knew, he just knew that they really weren't supposed to be doubted upon. And so with a last goodbye and a 'talk to you later', he ended the phone call and placed his phone back on the coffee table.

He looked at the digital clock on the said table, noticing it was past 12:30 and he was getting really hungry. He contemplated whether to change his outfit, then decided not to because it was a hassle and he was feeling comfortable in his appearance right now. He took the bag he usually used when going out for casual reasons with his wallet and other important necessities inside, before going out of the apartment and walking in busy streets of Russia.

  
  


 

 

The cafe was quiet, just like how a cafe should normally be. There were quite a number of people, mostly students who had used the place for filming something and doing their unfinished projects and homework. Victor rested his head on his hand, glancing carefully at the faces of the passing people. Annoyed, he flicked his silver colored fringe, which was covering the entirety of his left eye, out of his sight and sighed. There was this slight tug in his chest again, a feeling he had felt for over two days now. He didn't know what this strange phenomenon is and hope that whatever this feeling is would go away soon and leave him at peace.

"Victor, you're not gonna find him if you won't get off your ass." A teasing voice somewhere near him had said, slowly gaining his attention and saw his friend and co-owner of the shop, Christophe. The man honestly looked hilarious and wife-material, with booty shorts that were too tight they should be illegal, a plain sleeveless white shirt, and a red apron that had the phrase piece of ass with the ass being crossed out and replaced with cake.

"Chris, you could have at least had the decency to show up in the cafe without clothes," Victor joked, a playful smile plastered on his face. "Go back to where you were from. Change into something a bit less revealing than what you're wearing." This made the man huff, rolling his eyes, and walking back to what Victor thought was the employees' room.

They had known each other since the age of 14. Chris was the son of the new neighbors and his parents decided to be real friendly and visit their neighbors' houses. When Victor's parents opened the door, they were greeted with warm hello's and good day's and a gift offering from the Giacometti family. Victor, at that time, was standing beside his mama, noticing the curly-haired blonde hiding behind his parents. They did introduce their kids afterward, the Italian boy still being a shy kid he was. Apparently, all of the others weren't as pleasant and nice as the Nikiforovs, both parties coming to the conclusion that they'd be good family friends and neighbors.

They had spent most of their free time together, whether they were playing on Victor's console or go ice-skating, which is Chris' hobby and profession right now, it had been together. They weren't falling for each other, in fact, the other was also the other's wingman. Victor had a not-so close friend that Chris wanted to be really close to and that's when they decided to become each other's wingmen, with Victor being successful in his role as Chris and Masumi (the not-so close friend) went, in fact, into a relationship together. Well, now they knew that if anyone had trouble winning over the person they loved, Victor's the man to go. Fairly ironic considering he was the one having trouble with finding his soulmate.

"Katsuki Yuuri is such a nice man, don't you think, Georgi?"

Victor looked at the two people who just entered the cafe and saw his friends, Mila and Georgi, both wearing professional looking clothes for their jobs as news anchors and hosts. Georgi nodded his head, agreeing with what Mila had just said, before spotting Victor looking at them and tugging Mila. Her head turned to Victor, before smiling and walking towards the man who had been sitting down in the same spot for almost two hours now.

"Victor! Nice to see you here." Mila greeted, sitting down on the chair across him. Victor nodded, acknowledging her presence and what she had said. "We haven't had that kind of guest in months! The usual guests seemed to be all chattery and full of sponsors and stuff, and it was kind of getting boring, but this guy--oh, he was so cute! He's probably also very smart."

"Did this man turn you straight, Mila?" Victor joked, laughing as he did so. It had been a while since Mila had talked about a man in this excited and bubbly manner of hers, so this was a bit surprising to Victor. The red-haired woman sputtered and quickly denied, saying she was faithful to a woman who had not even met her and doesn't know she existed. Victor laughed once again and turned his attention to Georgi whose eyes were glued to the screen of his phone.

"Is that Anya?" Georgi froze, looking up at Victor who had a smirk playing on his lips. He grunted, shaking his head, before walking towards the counter and ordering something for himself. Victor, looking confused at the sudden reaction change, looked at Mila for an explanation. The woman put up a heart sign, then proceeded to separate her two hands, relaying the message that Georgi and Anya had just broken up. Well, that has to be tough, Victor thought to himself after nodding at her. It probably had to be; Anya was also a news reporter, someone Georgi looked up to for almost five years, and also one of the reasons why he had started being a news caster. He had mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date five months after being introduced to each other, then asked her to become her girlfriend after another five months. They had been in a relationship for two and a half years now and Georgi had been very proud of himself and his relationship because he got his dream girl and he had no plans on losing her.

That is, until today, apparently. For months, Georgi's friends had been suspecting that Anya was cheating on him but, the man being a lovesick idiot, paid no attention and acted like he was deaf; he even defended the woman. I guess somebody had brought him to reality and showed the picture of Anya kissing a man behind the production crew. The two Russians had long gone kept their mouth shut when Georgi arrived with his drink, violently stabbing the cover of his coffee cup, and looking up at the two of them who were suspiciously very quiet.

“I can tell you guys have been talking about me,” Georgi said with an exasperated sigh. Victor and Mila exchanged looks with each other before Mila sheepishly told him to pour out what he was feeling.

It turned out to become a very huge mistake since the next thing they knew, Georgi had a river of tears flowing from his eyes and wails so loud it would reach Moscow. Mila tried comforting the man while Victor just looked at him, unsure of what he should be doing.

“Anyway,” Georgi sniffed after a few minutes of intense sobbing, “Katsuki Yuuri looks similar to the painting Victor did.”

This time, Victor’s attention perked up, his eyes shimmering and his ears attentive to what he just heard. Painting? Similar?

“Ah, he does!” Mila affirmed, “That’s why he looked so familiar! I mean, not the entire face, obviously, but he had an aura.”

“Which painting?” Victor asked them, his two hands intertwined as his head rested on them, looking very very interested.

“Oh, umm—wait, I forgot the name of it. I think it was…”любить”, yeah. To Love…”

“To love is human. To feel pain is human; yet to still love despite the pain is pure angel…” Victor quoted, feeling yet another tug in his heartstrings.

Everytime he was reminded of the unfortunate endings with his soulmate in his past lives, his chest tightens and his heart gets crushed.

And, yes, he was one of those fortunate (or unfortunate, it depends) people who could remember their past lives.

Victor couldn’t remember the face of the human he had come to love for four lives yet hadn’t been able to have a happy ending with, and it irked him. It angered him so much, but he couldn’t do anything to change it, unless he does meet the person and suddenly the gods above would grant him a miracle.

“What is this painting familiarities I am hearing about?” The three heads turned to Chris who suddenly decided it was fun to join in their conversation.

“Our guest a while ago—he kind of looked like the one Victor draw in “To Love”” Mila explained, a smile on her face. By this time, Victor was determined to know who this man is and where he has been all his life. He had no cellular data, unfortunately, and the café did not yet offer free Wi-Fi as Chris was still thinking about it (“The main point of putting up a café is to make people interact with each other…in real life,” Chris had said at some point).

Finally making a decision, he stood up from his chair after being practically glued to it, took his things, and said a quick goodbye to his friends.

“What? Leaving already? Where are you going?” Chris asked the man, who was already near the door. Victor looked back, a positive and hopeful grin on his face.

“I’m going to try and find my long lost soulmate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Exams are done, but we are still bombarded with a lot of stuff to do!  
> Anyway, hiya. I hope you liked the chapter; I decided on making Victor an artist and a co-owner of a coffee shop. I'm trying to make this as cliche as possible. Also, I've visualized that this will be a story with only a few chapters, so it may be a little bit fast paced. :))  
> I'm planning on making a new story aaaaa!! Hopefully that story will have more planning than this one did.
> 
> anyway, that's all for this chapter. see you in the next chapter!  
> -r.k.


	3. Chapter 3.0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up?

The streets were busy, people were rushing towards where they were supposed to be, cars speeding through the roads, and Katsuki Yuuri just wanted to eat and be at peace.

Russia was, _is,_ lovely. The people were actually great and not as arrogant as what the stereotypes projected upon them. He doesn’t permanently live here, but he loved the place too much that he had to buy his own place here because he knew he will find himself frequently flying to Russia, more specifically, St. Petersburg.

It was as if there was a magnet attracting Yuuri to stay here, to be here, but he couldn’t figure it out. Maybe it was supposed to be that way? Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling him he should appreciate traveling and appreciate different places more?

_Or maybe your soulmate might be living here and this is actually your chance of meeting them?_ An annoying voice at the back of Yuuri’s head told him. He shook his head, trying to erase that probability and started to focus on where he could get food to eat.

As minutes passed by, he decided on going to a café Phichit had recommended for him. Although he was a bit suspicious of why Phichit had recommended the place, he still took it upon him and trusted his best friend.

“Welcome to Amore café! What would you like to order?” A man with two-toned hair and with a Harry Potter-like glasses asked him as soon as he walked near the cashier. The place was half empty, decorations weren’t too fancy but they weren’t bland and simple either.

“Uhh… W-What’s your best seller here?” Yuuri has asked the man, patiently waiting as the person brought his pointer finger to his lips and thought of it.

“Would it be too…smug of me if I said that everything here _is_ a best seller?” The man said with a playful smirk plastered on his face. With this, Yuuri had blushed and laughed for a second. He shook his head, telling him it was no problem and that he was looking for a good snack, most probably a sandwich.

“Well, then. I’ll ring up a Medianoche sandwich and a cup of Macchiato.” The cashier told him as he busied himself with typing in Yuuri’s order. “Don’t worry, the Macchiato’s on the house.”

After seeing Yuuri’s surprised expression at what he said, the man laughed in delight. “You look so surprised. It’s fine; we do that almost all the time. My name’s Chris, by the way.”

_Chris?_ Now that name sounded familiar; not that this man was the only Chris in the world, but there was a voice at the back of his head that he could not exactly pinpoint what it was saying, so he decided to ignore it.

“I need your name, sir.” Chris had told him, grabbing a cup and a marker as he looked at Yuuri expectantly.

“Yuuri…” He answered awkwardly, Chris nodding and showing him how much he would pay. Yuuri gave him the exact amount and took his receipt, before sitting down on a nearby chair, patiently waiting for his food to be done.

After five minutes, his food was served, his stomach growling at the sandwich that looked absolutely delicious. He devoured it but managed to savor each bite he took. After the last bite, he took his now-lukewarm coffee and headed out, not before waving at Chris as he heard the man say “Come back soon, Yuuri!”

Yuuri had smiled back, before heading out of the café and walking to a nearby plaza. It was weird; sure, his name had been called out by strangers a lot, but that was because these “strangers” admired his work, his book. Chris was somewhat different; he didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that he’ll probably see Chris again soon.

He didn’t have any flashbacks from his past life, that’s for sure; only his soulmate could do that, but maybe Chris _is_ related to his soulmate, one way or another?

_Or maybe Chris is just a really friendly guy and you’re just overthinking this situation?_ An annoying voice told Yuuri, to which the raven haired man believed. He probably was just a friendly guy.

The plaza was busy; people were fast-walking here and there, carrying shopping or grocery bags. It was a fast paced place, but Yuuri didn't try to join in with its movement.

He opted for walking slowly, but not aggravatingly slow. No one was making him stop for pictures or at least a ‘hello’ from the author, but that didn’t bother him; to be honest, he liked it more since it was calmer this way and there wouldn’t be any commotion made. His pushed back hair and the scarf that almost covered his mouth were helping, too.

He wanted to take in the wonderful sight, even though he has been in and out of the country for a lot of times already. Surely, he should have been tired of going back, but every time he came back, it always felt like the first time he did.

The first time he had come to Russia was when he was 19 years old, a year after he moved to Detroit to study there. He had been lucky enough to be one of the selected students to be brought to Russia for exposure, and he has fallen in love with the place ever since. He knew the selection wasn’t just out of pure luck; it was probably destiny, too.

He looked at every shop, seeing shining lights and blinking shop signs to grab people’s attention. There were a lot of foreign people, their phones out for a quick translation of things. Yuuri has been in the country and has been in love with it so much that he had willed himself to learn Russian and their alphabet; he’s learned enough to survive a day (and he isn’t that much of a talker, so it wasn’t a problem).

There were a lot of bookstores in the place, maybe an evidence of how people around here love to read. No wonder Russia was one of the countries with the most readers of his book. He decided to drop by two different bookstores (not before throwing his coffee cup in the right disposal bin); he had free time, anyway. The first bookstore was a bit cramped like it was a thrift shop but for books. The things were scattered almost everywhere, but in a way, it seemed like it was supposed to be like that, like a disorganized collection waiting for people to find its inner beauty.

Or maybe Yuuri has been poetic and flowing these past few days, finding happiness in every little thing. He shook his head, putting the book he was holding down, and went to the other store.

This one felt more like a stationery shop, but he’s not complaining. A school supply shop, full of school-related items that brought him memories of Detroit and Phichit. When they were younger, they would stop by any bookstore for pens and notebooks, even though they have tons, like _tons_ , of them in their shared apartment. It was like their own weird collection, but then again, Yuuri felt more…secure, in a way, knowing he always had a spare pen.

He had wandered down the books section, finding various works and masterpieces by different writers. At a particular row of books, he found his book proudly displayed in front. It was the last in this bookstore, it seemed, and just as he was about to reach for it, an arm had moved forward, too, in sync with his.

“Sorry—“ they had both said at the same time, both of them letting go of the book. Yuuri had moved to take the object from the floor, but the other man was faster.

“Here you go,” the man said, handing Yuuri the book. The latter’s eyes widened as he took hold of the book, looking at the man in front of him. Their reactions were the same; somehow, Yuuri’s scarf managed to loosen itself and show his entire face.

His heart was thumping loudly; he couldn’t hear anything. He could hear the blood flowing in his veins, rushing to his face. Everything was blurry and speedy, except for him and the man in front of him, the man with short— _had he cut it in this life?_ — shiny silver hair, and face with a surprised expression that quickly turned into a big smile— _crap, he’s handsome_.

“It’s you.” “I-It’s you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I'M BACK!  
> First and foremost, fuck exams.  
> Second, they met.  
> Third, I have a lot of free time this week, so I can get to work on Chapter 4 right away.  
> For those who think this will be all sweet and stuff, there will be angst somewhere. I'm not sure which chapter, but there will be and it's a bit close, considering this is a short story.  
> I also am making a new story, which I hope you guys are interested in in the future.  
> My (very dry) Tumblr account is here:  
> [ relentlessamusement ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/relentlessamusement)  
> My (also very dry and inactive but go check it out pls i need friends) Twitter account is here:  
> [ @TSOOKlSHIMA ](https://twitter.com/TSOOKlSHIMA)  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!  
> See you next chapter!!  
> <33


	4. Chapter 4.0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back again, mother fuckers. this one's the longest chapter so far.

“You’re fucking annoying me, you know that?”

Victor ignored the young boy across him. He was sat on his sofa, his laptop in front of him, noisily rambling his thoughts at the boy without actually looking up.

He was searching for something, _someone_ ¸ but he doesn’t know _where_ to start. He tried searching for the Facebook page of the show Mila and Georgi were working for, but the last post of it was two months ago. _It wasn’t even a proper post! Just a scam article that meant nothing whatsoever._

He then proceeded to search for their talk show and the date today, but to no avail. They were all this month and day, yes, but they weren’t this year. Finally, after a few trial and error, he decided to _actually use_ his brain and recall this morning’s conversation.

They hadn’t mentioned any name in the duration of their conversation; all he could remember was Mila and Georgi walking inside the café and Mila rambling and talking about a guest who went to their early morning show and Georgi who had been wailing about Anya officially cutting things off between them and—

_“Katsuki Yuuri looks similar to the painting Victor did.”_

That’s it! The man’s name was Katsuki Yuuri and, guessing from the sound of his name, he was probably Japanese. Giddy as ever and earning weird looks from the blonde haired boy, he typed in the name and waited for the results from Google.

“Smile more, old man, and you’ll get more wrinkles than you’re supposed to have.”

“Hush, Yuri. I’m finally going to meet my soulmate!” Victor ignored his comment once again and waited for the Google results. _Damn slow internet!_

Yuri scowled, muttering something about _about damn time_ before going to the kitchen and preparing a cup of orange juice for himself.

When the Google results finally loaded, all Victor could do was widen his eyes and open his mouth. _Katsuki Yuuri_. The man looked absolutely stunning, with professional-looking and HD photos of him and even funny looking ones. He was _beautiful_. He checked his Wikipedia page, learning the basics of the man. _So his birthday is on November 29, his height is 173 centimeters, his blood type is A, and he’s considered an award-winning author in Japan. Probably also in the world._

“You look like you’re going to puke rainbows,” Yuri commented, looking at a love-sick Victor. “Close your fucking mouth, old man, before flies get in.”

Victor closed his mouth, yes, but he couldn’t stop staring at the man on his computer screen.

 

**_“If I die in war, my love, please do not forget me. In this life, we part, but we will meet each other in our next.”_ **

****

**_“You did not have to go, agapi mou! I am here! Breathing and alive in front of you; why must you have done this?”_ **

****

**_“Please don’t do this to me…Muyo Lyubov…Don’t leave me alone, please. Don’t let go…please…”_ **

 

“VICTOR? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU CRYING?” Yuri’s shocked yet worried voice pulled him back to reality. He looked at the 16-year-old boy as he touched the side of his face, feeling cold wetness on it. Makkachin had come near him and started licking away the tears. He pet Makkachin as she situated herself in between his legs.

“I’m fine, Yuri,” Victor said, not bothering to look up again and check the books Katsuki Yuuri has written. He had made three all in all, but _A Thousand Lives_ was the most famous of all of them. As suspected from the title, it was about a man who had gone through different lives but never having a happy ending with his soulmate.

_Why does that sound so familiar…?_

“I fucking swear to God, Victor, if you’re going to cry one more fucking time, I will—”

Victor jumped up, clasping his hands together with a big smile on his face.

“Yuri, I have to go somewhere! Please watch Makkachin for me!” Victor exclaimed excitedly, taking his coat before rushing out of his apartment, without waiting for Yuri’s answer. His heart was racing, his mind unsettling, the grin never leaving his face as he went to the nearby plaza for a bookstore.

He walked towards where the books were, his mind set on finding and picking up Katsuki Yuuri’s book. After searching for it, he finally found what he was looking for; the book at the front most of the stacks. He walked towards it, excited to have it when—

When someone else reached for the book the same time he did.

“Sorry—” they said at the same time, letting go of the book. Victor, being the gentleman that he is, bent down and picked up the book for the person who had also wanted the book. _Hmm, seems like I’m not the only one interested in this._

“Here you go…” Victor trailed off, his eyes widening as he handed the book to the person in front of him, who also had, he believed, an identical expression as him. The scarf was loosely tied, the hair gelled back, and the same deep blue frames he saw in the pictures. _He looks…beautiful_

He couldn’t remember the entirety of the face of his soulmate in his previous life, but as soon as he saw this man, whether in pictures or real life, he remembered. He remembered those warm brown eyes that were looking at him right now in awe. The hair and glasses were new to him; the love of his previous lives had the hair down, which made him look absolutely precious. He, in this life and with his hair pushed back, looked… _hot_. Victor’s previous astonished expression was replaced with his wide and genuine heart-shaped smile; one he doesn’t show that often.

“It’s you.”

“I-It’s you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He stuttered. He _just_ had to stutter on the first time they met each other.

The man he had not seen since his previous life was right in front of him. His heart was pounding, his adrenaline rushing, his face was burning and probably very red right now, but he couldn’t care less.

The man who has been with him in his four different lives was standing in front of him, alive, and in flesh.

He couldn’t believe it at first; what, who would? All he could remember was the long flowy platinum hair that made the man majestic; he could remember the feeling of the person’s skin, his body. In a non-sexual way, being able to hold his hand, put his fingers between the spaces and squeeze them for reassurance that he was _never going to go away_ was what dragged his heart. The little gentle touches here and there; on the shoulder, on the arm, a pat on his head. It tugged on Yuuri’s heartstrings.

Because they were coming back to him. His memories, although selective and only a few, were coming back to him. The sweet and fluffy moments between them, the happy memories they had together. They were coming back.

And he just had to stutter, didn’t he?

It was stupid, he knew it was stupid. It was just a stutter, but he was so worked up on it. The man probably didn’t care about it, anyway.

Realizing he has spent a bit of time dwelling in his inner monologue, he looked up at the man again, a shining bright smile on his face.

“Vic-Victor,” The other person—Victor introduced, “Victor Nikiforov.”

 _Victor Nikiforov._ It rang repeatedly inside his head. He wondered how it would sound on his tongue. The blinding smile was still there, a tint of red covering his cheeks. It was better than Yuuri’s tomato face, that he knows.

 It was better than Yuuri’s tomato face, that he knows.

“Y-Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri.” He introduced himself, too, covering his heated face with his scarf.

“I know that.” Victor said, pointing at the book he wanted to buy and winked. Thus, at that moment, Yuuri knew he fucked up.

And by _fucked up_ ¸ he meant he was going to die earlier if he spends his entire life with this soulmate of his. Amidst this, he nodded, not fully trusting his mouth to run.

“Can I ask for your—uh—number?” Victor asked, looking at him expectantly. Yuuri was supposed to answer, he knew that, but all he did was stare at the man who had just asked his phone number and gape at him. This, of course, made Victor conscious with his question.

“Was that too straightforward? Ah fu—I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was too early for that—I just met you and all---”

“It’s not—um, you’re not being too straightforward,” Yuuri interjected, slowly holding his hand awkwardly, waiting for Victor to give him his phone. Victor hadn’t moved; his face just showed a stunned expression, his eyes moving back and forth from Yuuri’s face to his hands. The action was making Yuuri feel uncomfortable and awkward the more milliseconds passed that he almost retracted his hand. It only lasted for a few second, though, before his ever-so-slightly open mouth was replaced with a cheery smile and he handed Yuuri his phone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He’s a blubbering mess. If any of his so-called friends saw that _Victor Nikiforov, the heart-stealer, show-stopper, overconfident man who knew everything he would say like he knew the future and had prepared a script for all the scenes_ was blubbering and stuttering, then that would be their go-to party conversation always.

And he’s not even exaggerating. Victor is confident, _over confident_ in Yuri’s opinion. His confidence is shown in his words, in his talking manner; it flows with power and every sentence was always concrete and full of the emotion he was trying to deliver. So to be stuttering here like a wild (but hot) mess was a first and something he’d never want his friends to know about.

He had a valid reason, though (or so he continued to tell himself). If you were face to face with the person whom you’ve loved ever since your previous lives, wouldn’t you feel a swelling feeling of happiness gusher over you? Because Victor certainly didn’t expect Christmas to come real early for him to get this big blessing.

When Yuuri stared at him when he asked for his number, Victor internally panicked a bit. _Shit, I think I went too far this early,_ but when Yuuri had agreed and gave him his phone number, surprise took over him. Why wouldn’t he? He actually thought he scared or weirded Yuuri out.

“I-I think I have to-to go,” Yuuri stuttered out, looking anywhere but Victor. It seemed like Yuuri felt awkward and gauche; he was also a stuttering mess, he couldn’t stop fidgeting, and  Victor had to stop himself from hugging the man in front of him.

“Oh! That’s—ah, it’s fine. I’ll just message you later?” Victor responded, although a bit disappointed that their meeting would be cut short. Yuuri nodded, rushing to leave the bookstore without actually saying something to Victor, leaving him in the middle of “Goodbye.”

So there stood Victor, in between two aisles of books, with Katsuki Yuuri’s book in one hand and the other one in the air, supposedly a wave, but Yuuri hadn’t noticed it because he had zoomed out of the bookstore already.

Victor slowly brought his free hand to his pocket, took his phone, and dialed a number. He put it near his ear, walking towards the cashier and listening to the rings, before the called person answered with a “Victor! What’s up?”

“Chris!” He exclaimed, surprising the cashier lady from his sudden outburst. He apologized repeatedly, earning a hearty laugh from Chris. “Oh shush! You’ll never know what happened today!”

“What happened?” Chris asked afterward. Victor had already purchased the book. It was already currently inside the paper bag with the bookstore’s signature logo on it, and he walked out of the place like a dazzling, bright ray of sunshine.

 

 

“I just saw my soulmate.”

 

 

Yuuri spoke, mostly towards himself. He had arrived at his apartment, locked the door and slid down on it, trying to catch his breath.

 _He had just seen his soulmate in this life!_ It was difficult to believe nor comprehend; he has not seen him since his last life and he was completely (not really) fine with the thought of not actually seeing who the person would be, but now that he has...

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Being able to finally put a face on the drawing he had on his crumpled paper was solace towards his emotions, but at the same time, there was remorse in it; a deep regret that rooted for his unstable emotions.

Now that he _has_ seen his soulmate, his face never leaves his head. It’s a photo permanently pasted inside his memory and he can’t tell whether that’s a good or a bad thing. All he knew is that he _had to call Phichit._

He walked to the living room, dragging his feet below him. Why did he feel this way? Wasn’t he supposed to be happy? That’s what _normal_ people feel, right? Euphoria for the moment of the meeting? So why did he feel like holding it back?

His speed dial was worth it; one click away and Phichit’s phone was ringing. He was waiting and waiting and _maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Phichit’s busy with skating—I mean, he has an ice show coming up, right? Bad timing on calling, I guess? I sho—_

“Yuuri!!” Phichit’s loud voice came through the earpiece of Yuuri’s phone, breaking his train of thoughts and pulling his head back to reality. “How are you? How’s Russia? Did you go to the café I told you to go to?”

Phichit was rambling and asking multiple questions at once; for once, this was great. Yuuri quite minded how people ask more than one question at once, but he had never had the heart to tell them so. Right now, though, it seemed like a distraction and he was heavily thankful for that. _But why did he want to be distracted?_

“Phichit, calm down.” Yuuri squeezed in between Phichit’s fire interrogation. “Ask questions individually, please.”

He heard a laugh from the other side, maybe it was Phichit realizing that he had done that something which peeved Yuuri. His apologies confirmed Yuuri’s hypothesis before he first went with—

“So how was today?’

And Yuuri, who couldn’t explain what he was feeling right now and couldn’t understand this day, laughed. He laughed and laughed, but it wasn’t full enough to be considered a hearty laugh; it was a laugh people would do when they’ve got nothing on their hands or when their brains are too tired to cave in more thoughts or they’re just…out of it. Yuuri’s laughs slowly died out, before he answered Phichit with

“To be honest? A lot has happened and I have absolutely no idea what to make out of it.”

Because he really _just_ didn’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...last week, I told you guys that I'll have more free time since there was no regular school day.
> 
> I had made a mistake. I hadn't taken into account the school party last Thursday and my training for the entire weekend.  
> My timeline last week went like this:  
> Wednesday and Thursday = school party  
> Friday = no class  
> Saturday and Sunday = training  
> Monday = no class  
> I thought I'd get the chance to write during those no classes, but my body was too tired to function. I'm sorry!!
> 
> But hey it's here!! And if you haven't noticed, the chapter count has changed. I'm half way into finishing this story, but I'm still not quite sure about 8 chapters. It'd probably change because I tend to over analyze things.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for waiting. Comments and kudos are VERY VERY appreciated.
> 
> Tumblr:  
> [ relentlessamusement ](https://relentlessamusement.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Twitter:  
> [ TSOOKlSHIMA ](https://twitter.com/TSOOKlSHIMA)


	5. Chapter 5.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An overview of best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:  
> I HAVE NO BETA.  
> I PROOFREAD WITH THE HELP OF GRAMMARLY (only 98% reliable)  
> ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
> 
> I did this chapter for only a day and I had not realized how long the chapter would become, but then here we are.
> 
> it's basically just a really long narrative of best friends and how the meeting went.
> 
> Read the end note!!

“Phichit, please calm do—”

“YOU JUST MET YOUR SOULMATE?!” Phichit’s loud voice booms throughout Yuuri’s bedroom as he put their phone call on speaker. Yuuri nodded, albeit knowing Phichit can’t actually see him doing it. “AND YOU JUST RAN?”

Well, to be fair, he didn’t _just_ run away. He was polite enough to stay for a couple of minutes for introduction and exchanging of numbers—or just his number to Victor—and _that’s_ when he ran outside of the bookstore, leaving what he presumed a dumbfounded human who was only going to say goodbye—because he heard the first few syllables of the word—but was left alone after Yuuri’s brain finally saw a way to escape this awkward situation and decided it was the best thing to do.

It wasn’t the best thing to do, in Phichit’s opinion.

“I understand—” _No, you don’t fully understand._ “—but you could’ve waited for him to finish his farewell?”

Yuuri groaned, feeling embarrassment creeping up onto him as he plopped down his bed. It wasn’t his fault, he knew that. It was his stupid brain, trying to overthink everything. But still, he thought it was his fault, or at least, he had some contribution to what went through his brain. His brain, which was currently trying to remember Victor’s perfect and without-a-flaw kind of face, his sparkling eyes that light up with joy the same way it had been before, and just the feeling of being able to take in the feeling of seeing what he used to have in his previous life and finally seeing it in real life. Yuuri blushed, a chill running down his spine as he tried to remember the feeling of Victor’s skin on his—

“Look at the bright side, Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, breaking Yuuri’s train of thoughts. _What could be the bright side of this?_ Yuuri thought to himself, before humming to let his best friend continue—

 

 

“You got to meet your soulmate!”

 

 

Chris exclaimed after Victor explained the entire meeting. “You got to meet him again.”

Victor was currently on Cloud 9 right now, walking up the stairs towards his beloved apartment. He had greeted his grumpy landlord with a huge smile, earning him weird looks and a door slam that was so loud it probably woke up other apartment owners who were sleeping. He could vividly remember every detail from their meeting; the way Yuuri’s hair was slicked back, but with a few loose strands that made him look very delightful, his expressions changing from one to another in a matter of seconds, how nervous he looked like when Victor had asked for his number, and everything else that made Victor feel all fuzzy inside. The only time he’d ever want to look and sound lovesick was in front of his friends and Chris was no exception.

“Yes I did, Chris!” Victor exclaimed, opening the door of his apartment to find Makkachin sleeping on his couch and a note placed on his coffee table. “I got to meet him in this life, where I thought would never happen, and he is amazing! He’s amazing before and more amazing now!”

He took the note and read it, Yuri’s messy handwriting scribbled on it: _Gone in a few hours. Beka just arrived in St. Petersburg and I promised to get him so he wouldn’t get lost. Didn’t bother locking the door; you just hope nothing got stolen there. Still wouldn’t pay for it._ He should be bothered by the unlocked door, but right now, it didn’t matter that much and he trusted his flatmates enough.

“Victor, are you hearing yourself right now?” Chris rhetorically asked, muffling a laugh.

“Yes.”

“Oh god, you’re actually serious.” Chris deadpanned, but not that serious. He wasn’t that taken aback because god knows what the power of soulmates could do. He wasn’t like Victor; one of the people who could actually remember their past life, so Chris wasn’t so sure if this was his first life or not, but all he knew was that he loved Masumi, his fiancé, very very much that when he saw the man for the first time, his heart skipped a beat, and right then and there, he knew Masumi and he were meant to be.

If he felt heavily swept away just by seeing Masumi whom he was unsure of being his soulmate, what more would Victor be feeling right now when he was absolutely sure that the person he just met was his?

“Of course, I’m serious, Chris! Did you think I was fooling around?” Victor feigned hurt, which Chris grew accustomed to already, seeing that he already became friends with him for almost half of his life or almost 15 years. “I’m wounded, Chris.”

“Oh shush, drama queen.” Chris laughed, then went quiet for a bit. From what Victor heard, he was receiving a compliment given by a customer and passed on by one of his chefs. He heard Chris’ natural flirty thanks, before coming back to Victor. “People are so easily pleased with my food.”

“Don’t get so cocky, Giacometti.”

“The only cocky that I’ll ever get is pulling an all-nighter with Masumi.” He retorted suggestively and Victor could imagine the shit-eating grin Chris was pulling right now, accompanied with a wink. Victor laughed, _unbelievable._

“You don’t have to rub your unbelievable and truly existent sex life to me, Chris.” Victor scoffed, as he rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a reminder of how “amazing Masumi is in bed” and how dry I am, you thirsty man.”

“ _I’m_ not the one who’s thirsty, Victor. My thirst has been quenched for years now.” Chris said, to which Victor rolled his eyes to, again.

“Okay, okay, I get it. But please get this; this is different. Yuuri isn’t just…a one night stand, Chris. He’s not someone I’m going to fuck with—”

“—But you’re gonna fuck him—”

“We’ll get there, shush,” Victor interjected, shaking his head at how dirty Chris’ train of thoughts could go to. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by a man who can’t keep his dick in his pants because Masumi’s on a trip, Yuuri is someone I want to value. I want to build a strong relationship with him. Not because he’s my soulmate, but because for a long time since forever, I felt something.”

And he did. He’s been through different people, girl or boy, yet none of them made him feel that spark. They sure filled his evening desires, but it was always a one-time thing. Every morning was either him rushing out the person’s place or the other way around, and the walk of shame definitely was something he did not want to feel again. A quick fuck, a handjob, a blowjob, they were all for pleasure, to lessen his carnal desires, but at the end of the day, it was quite useless.

Because Victor wanted to be loved. He wanted to be loved the same way his artwork was loved. Victor wanted to be loved the same way his parents loved each other. He wanted to be loved the way he put love in each stroke and fill in he had made in all of his masterpieces. He wanted to be loved the way he remembered; a soft, inviting, and heart-filling pleasure that did not only come in physical and lustful ways but also the taste of home, the inviting domesticity between people.

In his case, it was Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri of his four different past lives and, as he hoped, even in this life. With this hope came also the hope that they would finally have a happy ending together. If they finally get to be together, he’ll treat Yuuri like he’s the most precious thing in the world, because he _is_ the most precious thing in the world, next to Makkachin, of course. He’ll pamper him so much and spoil him with lots and lots of love. Sex comes with it, as usual, but each time they make love to each other, he’ll make sure Yuuri feels loved and he’s comfortable and make him think like each time’s always like the first time.

Victor sighed dreamily as his thoughts wandered to the domestic side of the two of them; living under one roof, early morning breakfast made by Victor or Yuuri, the fun times they’d get as each other’s inspirations in their works, scheduled clean-ups, movie date nights, and just the simplicity of Victor and Yuuri.

“Oh my god, Victor.” Chris gasped after hearing Victor’s sentimental sigh. He hummed, motioning for Chris to continue what he was supposed to say.

 

 

“You’re definitely whipped!”

 

 

Phichit commented after Yuuri’s long and detailed speech about the man he had the privilege (and more so the right because—they _are_ soulmates, right?) to meet in a bookstore. He’s heard this speech before, but less detailed than what Yuuri had just poured out. It was when they were still younger, where Detroit was their place, and their apartment was their home. It still is, especially when Yuuri decides to go to Detroit and knows he shouldn’t bother booking any hotel rooms because their humble apartment is the way to go.

When Phichit first met Yuuri, the Japanese boy was already inside their place, arranging his side of the room. He was so kind and apologetic that, if Phichit could remember correctly, Yuuri had said the word “sorry” ten times in the span of two hours during their first meeting. He could hardly recollect why this megane man had apologized to him, but he found it hilarious to the point where he just declared Yuuri as his best friend. Thankfully, he hadn’t rejected (he couldn’t bear being rejected by his roommate because that’ll probably make things awkward during the span of five years).

He learned Yuuri was an amazing writer when Phichit had asked help from him for his ARC class; he was supposed to write something based on the theme their professor had given them. Let it be known that this particular professor enjoyed giving out themes that were unusual, but they couldn’t do anything to alter his decision in the theme. Let it also be known that Yuuri can absolutely make you an entire composition with anything as the theme, more than passing the requirement of more than 750 words. He didn’t know how he did it, but after five hours, he had handed Phichit the composition based on the theme of ‘fruity-scented red nail polish’.

“Y-You made this?” Phichit had asked incredulously as he read through the first paragraph of the piece. His roommate had a shy or bashful smile on his face, scratching the back of his neck as he looked down at the ground.

“I-I can change it if—well, if you’re not satis—” Yuuri wasn’t even able to finish his sentence because his breath was taken away as Phichit engulfed him into a tight and bone-crushing bear hug, before repeating how he platonically loved the man and that he was so lucky to have him as his roommate and best friend.

He knew about the entire soulmate fiasco when he was snooping—no, he didn’t mean to snoop or see it, but he also couldn’t help the curiosity that grew inside him with Yuuri’s notebook which he always hid every time someone comes inside the room—and saw drabbles and a few doodles of a man with long hair but no face. It sounded scary, but to Phichit, it didn’t seem like it. The doodles were full of color, while the stories were indubitably the best things he had ever read. He did find out soon because Phichit couldn’t entirely zip his mouth and the mention of his soulmate slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. The Thai did apologize, but it didn’t seem like Yuuri minded that much; he even shared bits of pieces about his soulmate.

Ever since that, he would share something about his soulmate or his past life and Phichit can see his eyes sparkle and shine whenever he was talking about them. It made him happy yet a little bit jealous because Yuuri had some memory with his past life. He, on the other hand, had none and he was unsure if he even had a past life yet.

“Oh, Phichit” Yuuri started when Phichit voiced out his envy about the entire past life buzz. “It may seem lucky to you, but honestly, it’s not that much and I’m sure I’m unlucky to remember.”

Phichit learned that Yuuri and his soulmate never had a happy ending in those four lives.

“Yuuri.” He started. “Is he hot?”

The asked man sputtered, collections of “uhh” and “umm” can be heard on the other line. Phichit waited for the answer before Yuuri mumbled a very low “yes”.

He shrieked once again, which didn’t surprise the Japanese man at all. He asked the name, which Yuuri replied with “Victor…Nikiforov”

He knew Phichit was going to search him up on the internet for some facts and information about the man; God knows if he’s just an ordinary person, but an extraordinarily hot and perfect ordin—

“Oh my god, Yuuri! He’s a famous artist in Russia! How could you have not known?”

Scratch the ordinary. He wasn’t ordinary, apparently. He listened to Phichit’s ramblings, giving him more information than needed, before he asked, “Hey. Isn’t the last name Nikiforov familiar?”

It _did_ sound familiar, but somehow he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I know!” His best friend exclaimed, “the author you liked when you were younger. The one who inspired you to write? Uhh…Al…Alt…Ale-Alex! Alexis Nikiforov! Oh my god, he’s Victor’s father! Search the man of your life, Yuuri! Make some research, my dude!”

Yuuri wanted to laugh because he thought Phichit was joking, but he did follow Phichit and searched for Victor Nikiforov. His jaw dropped, unable to say anything and thought that fate was fucking with him, but he was definitely not seeing things. Alexis Nikiforov, the man who had inspired him to write, was Victor’s father! There are a lot of Nikiforovs in the entire world, so he hadn’t expected them to be related.

 

Their call ended with Phichit’s coach, Celestino, calling his name out and reminding him it was practice time already. He said his good lucks and best wishes for Phichit’s upcoming competition, the same way Phichit had wished him good luck with the soulmate situation.

 _Huh, that should be a title for a story._ Yuuri thought after dropping the call, taking his journal book and writing it for ideas’ sake. In the middle of his researching to get to know Victor more, his phone buzzed and he looked at the Caller ID. It was unknown and, although Yuuri wasn’t one to answer calls from unknown people, privacy towards life was barely noticeable, so he took the risk and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Yuuri!” _Victor!_ He had scrambled onto his feet, his hands moving in the air like he was trying to reach for something.

“U-Uh, Victor? W-Why’d you call?” Yuuri asked, trying to remain calm and collected but evidently failing to do so. He was flailing, he was biting his fist, trying to keep himself from screaming.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to meet tomorrow?” Victor asked him, _more than okay!_ “I heard you wouldn’t stay long here and I wanted to spend some time with you.”

Yuuri was blushing. Of course, he was! Victor had just asked him if he was okay with meeting him again and that he had thought of Yuuri’s schedule ahead of time.

“S-Sure, uh, what time?”

They had settled with a time and place to meet; 3 PM at Amore Café. Victor had asked if he knew where the place was and Yuuri had affirmed it, saying he had already gone there, leaving out the information that he went there just hours ago before they met. They had also exchanged their Skype IDs and Victor had teased him that he’ll be calling him randomly and that he can’t wait to see his bleared out expression and bed hair. Yuuri’s heart jumped as Victor reasoned out how his heart also gets fluttered from the thought of seeing Yuuri in his disheveled hair state.

After the call, Yuuri had once again laid back on his bed, his mind running circles as he stared up at his ceiling. He’ll be meeting Victor again tomorrow and they’ll be on a date—is it considered a date? Maybe not.—and they’ll have Skype calls and—

He really needed to call Phichit right now for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did this chapter last Saturday, but I only got to publish it now because the school was catching up on me.  
> This chapter is like the longest so far, but it's not the juiciest? The next chapter actually will be the lengthiest, but I can't promise you that because there still is The Angst chapter (insert trademark logo lol). All I know is the next chapter is going to be the lengthiest because  
> 1\. my quota's only 8 chapters. I mean, I could adjust it but:  
> 2\. Separating the two main actions in the next chapter equals to short chapters. I don't have anything against short chapters, but I feel like they'll be too short? Unless I put like tons of "unnecessary" narrations, which I think not a lot would like? Hit me up or comment down if you'd want that.
> 
> Second agenda!! I might make a one-shot, but I'm not sure. It's a Mafia AU with Victuuri, of course! But it's not all bloody and angst and stuff like that; it's more of a crack fic? Maybe not entirely crack, but rest assured, it's not overly heavy. Still can't promise you that, though, because my mind might have other ideas and my writing style or plans don't really go the same way I originally planned, but I let it be.
> 
> AS USUAL.  
>  **_KUDOS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED_ **. PLS PLS PLS I REALLY APPRECIATE YOUR COMMENTS; THEY MAKE AND WILL MAKE MY DAY (honestly though, when i read comments, there's a really really huge smile on my face as i read)
> 
> My Tumblr and Twitter accounts are below(?) so go check them out and talk to me? pls? (I'm lonely.)
> 
>  
> 
> **HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER.  
> **  
>  SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!! 
> 
> Note as of September 1, 2017:  
> The next chapter will be uploaded later than usual, maybe a week or two. I've been working on the kind-of mafia one-shot and I'm trying to put an entire plot in one chapter, so forgive me if it might take longer for me to come back to this story. Hopefully, my spark hasn't died and wouldn't die down because I've been writing for three days straight.  
> <3333333333333 leave comments if u want to, i love reading them even if they're just emoticons <33333333333

**Author's Note:**

> Find me in:  
> Tumblr: [ relentlessamusement ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/relentlessamusement)  
> Twitter: [ TSOOKlSHIMA ](https://twitter.com/TSOOKlSHIMA)
> 
> pls be my friend, thank you.


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